Hearts and Rubies
by Caelestis Crepusculum
Summary: This is a story of a village, a tree, red cloaks, and some magic. When a red cloak means a sacrifice, and wolves are the least of the little girl with a basket of food's worries. Updating inconsistently once more!
1. Prologue: Of Blood Red Rubies

**Prologue: Of Blood Red Rubies**

Keena drew her bright red cloak around herself, chilled not by the mist which made it through the canopy, but the feeling of being stalked. Hunted like game. A mouse in the eyes of a hungry cat.

She felt that the gift from her mother was making her stand out. Which it was. The bright red cloak clashed so loudly with the surrounding forest that you'd have to be an actually blind bat not to see it.

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Memories are memories.

Wind is wind.

But both are the same.

Once those who felt it have gone,

so have they.

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"N-no, Clarke, she's just twelve, she'll make friends! C-can't you take that back?" Keena kept her eyelids in rest position. Her mother was talking to the village's spokesman and leader in hushed and hissed words, to hide them from… Her?

"Marla, there's been younger. I'm sorry, but she's useless. No good will come from keeping this cloak off of her." What where they talking about?

"Clarke!" Marla's voice broke. Keena's eyes where half open, it made it easier to think that way. Was her mother laughing? No… was she crying? Why? ... "She's our only child!" Marla sat in the extra chair for guests kept next to the door, sobbing into her hands.

Clark Mitish had done this twice before, such an awful thing to have to do. But Keena had to go. She was the outcast of Kulra Village. She would cause nothing but trouble if left alone. She had problems far worse than the other two, ten and twenty years ago.

"… Marla, there's more, let's talk outside."

The girl who was feigning sleep listened through the walls, but only being able to hear the deep rumbling of Mr. Mitish's words, began to drift back into slumber.  
"DOLLS!? You're going to do this because she plays with dolls! YOUR daugh-"

"These aren't normal dolls your daughter plays with, Marla!" Clarke had to yell to break through Marla's rage, every word echoing through the pitch-colored night in the village.

Keena looked like she was being strangled, her eyes bulged and she made pitiful noises when she tried to breathe. Her dolls! How could have anybody have found out! They hadn't worked anyhow, Neim, that horrible girl, was still fine, unlike the doll with a lock of her hair attached. The doll had several holes in it, singe marks on all the limbs, and had been cut open, the stuffing spilling out into the bottom of the jewelry box Keena had it, and several others, hidden away in.

Keena was finally able to take a full breath. She slid her legs over the side of her mattress, and soon she was on the floor, looking under her bed, searching among the junk and rubble. Keena was silent, their home only had three rooms, Keena sleeping in the largest along with the kitchen and dining area, she didn't want her mother to find her looking for her dolls.

The twelve-year-old pulled her jewelry box from under her bed with both hands and opened it, to lift out the false bottom meant for hiding important jewels, which Keena didn't own.

Slowly Keena put the jewelry box back under her bed and climbed back into her warm spot. She knew why Mr. Mitish was at her home. She was going to be punished for trying to punish Neim.

Keena silently cried herself back to sleep, the soft sounds of her mother and Clarke speaking playing parts in her dreams.

Sitting under Keena's sleeping form the cherry wood box stood with its true bottom empty, only a few strands of hair left within.

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A gift is a great thing,

unless it brings death.

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Keena awoke to her mother, who was wearing a fourth-hearted smile. The girl felt like she had lead chains wrapped around her insides. What was going to happen next? How would she be punished?

"Keena, I have a present for you." Marla's smile widened, but her eyes had the look of unbridled sorrow. She looked tired and defeated.

"Mama, a present?" It was all a dream wasn't it? Just a bad dream, a warning perhaps. Keena would get rid of the dolls later that day.

"Y-yes, a red cloak. You're to go pick the Ruby Fruits from the forest. For the festival in two days." Marla spoke in odd fragmented sentences. It was creepy. The woe-burdened mother held up a piece of cloth which looked as if it had been dyed with crushed pomegranate.

"Mama! It's so pretty!" Keena took the cloak from her mother's hands, lost in its color.

Neim had always had the honor of picking the bright fruits from the forest, but not even she got such a wonderful cloak, hers was always so drab and green. Such a cheap color.

Keena was quick to wrap the cloth around her body and stand from her bed and look at herself.

"I'll go get you a basket. Get dressed. I'm sure people'll want to see you off, hon." Marla was still speaking in broken phrases. Odd. The mother went to shuffle through the contents of a cabinet as Keena quickly got dressed in a blue dress that was a favorite of hers, and who's light color wouldn't fight with the bright red upon her back.

Marla handed her daughter an average whicker basket, Keena had been hoping for a prettier one like the one that Neim always got to bring along with her, to come back with it overflowing with the lovely round Ruby Fruits Kulra and the Murandi festival where known for.

Taro entered the room from his and Marla's bedroom, giving his daughter a look, a look Keena had never seen before. What was that about?

"Marla, she'll need a lunch to eat, don't want her to stain her dress indulging on those fruits." Taro left the house, not having looked at his wife when he had spoken to her. His voice, a monotone where the statement would have usually been ended with a loving chuckle. And such words. They didn't sound like him at all.

Keena's eyes had gone from the shut door, to her mother, who was giving it a gaze which could melt rock and freeze fire at the same time. Even weirder.

It startled Keena when her mother suddenly stomped into their kitchen, opening another cabinet to pull out a loaf of bread. The good kind with the sunflower seeds imbedded within. Marla seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before hurriedly opening up a drawer to pull out a knife. Not a knife to cut bread, a knife to hack at meat. That surprised Keena even more.

The girl watched her mother look around for something else and Keena went to the table, placing her basket next to her place at the four-legged woodwork. Marla had found whatever she had been looking for.

"Here, hon. Bring your basket here." Marla was shaking, but steadied herself on the counter as her obliging daughter got close enough to see. She took the basket from her daughter placing within the basket the loaf and knife, both wrapped in a large cloth napkin, and a flask of water, it was a cheap one, but worked well.

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A journey which begins with sorrow

can only end with sorrow.

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Keena heard something other than rustling leaves in the breeze swimming under the dismally gray sky. The sharp crack of a twig crushed underfoot, and it wasn't under Keena's foot, for sure. Having been terrorized by the feeling of being watched her entire trek to the Ruby Fruit Tree, Keena was quick to reach into her basket, without having the luxury of seeing what she was doing while she was looking about for the cause of the noise she flailed her hand about until the bread, and blade, were free of the napkin, she grasped the handle, but kept her hand inside her basket.

It could tell she'd knew she was being watched the entire time, but now it cursed itself, knowing it'd put her on edge. It stood off the winding trail watching the dancing red cloak through the leaves hanging about. Soon the blotch of color in the brown and green landscape began to move, tentatively at first, but soon back to a self-assured gait.

Then she began to run, haphazardly, not wanting to lose its meal, it sped up to match, twigs cracking seemingly every step.

Somebody was out there! Now she was sure, Keena had decided to run to see if something was following her. And there was, she could hear heavy foot-falls behind her, but they seemed to be paced, like a trained athlete racing a wobbly, short-legged two-year-old. Her wonderful cloak was slowing her down; it was wet now, as the rain had grown in intensity.

Keena dropped her basket, keeping only her knife, fumbling with the bow which held her cloak around her neck, until she was freed of its weight as it was blown behind her by the wind and her own momentum.

Suddenly there were two. Red and blue. They both stood out against the saturated bark and leaves that served for a backdrop. Blue kept on going forward, but Red seemed to have decided it best to head back towards the pitiful village. Blue rushed forward, but Red seemed to be suddenly indecisive and just stood, motionless. All the better, it would go after the Blue one next.

It jumped from its hidden position off the trail, going from two limbs to four, lunging at the red splotch of color in the forest. Expecting meat and bone between its jaws the beast bit hard, coming only onto its own fang, air, and cloth, also, its weight on the cloak, having been caught by a branch, brought the beast toppling onto the soggy, muddy, rotten-leaf covered ground.

Then it heard the real girl in blue run past the beast, off the trail, having doubled back. It untangled itself from the red fabric it had wrapped its arms around just before biting.

It had been snarling, but as it stood, it roared in pain and anger, all of its teeth feeling like they had shattered into dust. Unfortunately for Keena, they where all intact.

Keena ran, knife in hand, normally, she would have been worried about impaling herself with it, but she had a bigger problem, and this one could chase her. Thrashing through the forest, trying to stay parallel to the path, the horrible sound of the beast's roar just egged her on. Was this why her mother had cried last night? Was this why everybody had seemed so solemn when they saw her off to go collect the Ruby Fruit? The cloak wasn't from Marla; it was from Clarke, it was what her mother had wanted him to take back. Neim's drab cloak suddenly made sense. There was a monster in the woods. Keena's mind raced with her heart, mind and body fighting for importance.

All of this was because of the dolls? They'd been harmless! Who could have found them? Who could have found them that would have told Clarke? Keena's eyes welled up, blurring her vision in the dark, wet, forest.

The only one who could have done it… it couldn't have been her mother; she had acted like Clarke was crazy at the mention of dolls. The only other person who had been in their house since three days ago. The day Keena had given up on her dolls her cousin Micca had given her and taught her to use the last time she had been over. The day she had put them away for good.

Taro. Her father.

At first hateful thoughts towards her father spewed forth from Keena's mind, but she became riveted to the thought of her cousin, why wasn't she out here running from this monster? Micca had the same dolls. Micca had friends that knew about the dolls. Micca had friends. That was it. Keena had no friends, well; she had a half-friend named Illa. She was nice to Keena, but not a friend. The girl openly sobbed while she ran, was it really all because she was alone? Because nobody cared?

Although it was almost blind, the beast could follow the sounds of the panicked girl, or the trail as it seemed she was following the soggy path. Soon it could see her blue form rushing along, even through the, what was now panes of water, which acted as cloudy windows for all. It passed her; she couldn't make it to Kulra, no matter what. The beast turned around and suddenly lunged again, having been expecting a head in its claws the beast was disappointed by the fact it'd only slashed open a leg.

Keena had heard it pass her, she'd immediately stopped, and it'd saved her life, but not her leg.

She screamed, but not in pain, but at the sight of the monster before her, she hadn't stopped to look at it before, putting getting away before knowing what she was getting away from. The beast had a large pair of horns, and its eyes were clouded over, opaque and almost white, like a dead person, but its head was not that of a person, but that of an angry bull. Except it looked like it'd run into a brick wall, until it busted through before hitting another four. Thick fur covered the entire beast but its arms, which where a horrid mess of flesh, bulging at places arms aren't meant to bulge, veins pulsing so hard its hands rhythmically swung with the beat..

Keena's leg didn't support her anymore, and she fell backwards. Suddenly, after having stood, looking at the girl for a few precious moments, it sprang forward, its claws puncturing Keena's abdominals. She was going to die. Keena knew it. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the screaming pain from her leg, and now her stomach. Her whole body tensed, and her hand hurt, had she cut it too while she had ran for safety? No ... Her hand!

Pain ripped through the beast's thoughts, the hand it had planned to grab hold of the girl's head, to break her neck, grasped the limb it was using to pin the girl, that arm, which suddenly tensed, spelt bad news for the girl, claws ripping through flesh into a fist. The girl screamed in pain, but it was drowned out by the beast's own pain-caused screech. Where its hand had sized its arm, was a huge slice. The girl grasped the knife, and with two hands dragging the blade down through the meat, had already left the blood-spitting spot the creature was grasping at, the blue, and now also red, girl pulled the knife towards herself until she came to a point where the taper in its arm freed the blade.

Keena dropped the knife, and clutched at the arm jammed into her stomach, she'd aimed for its chest, but her pain had caused her to miss. Keena had long begun to cry, she was falling backwards from her semi-upright position, whimpering, but the beast caught her head in mid-fall. Suddenly Keena was more religious than the entire village of Kulra combined. She prayed to her gods to save her, and was answered! A great flash of light, followed by a thunderous roar from the heavens. Suddenly, Keena was hopeless, her body was already limp.

Lightning. The storm.

In rage and pain the Minotaur slammed the girl's head into the ground. And then again, and again, until it stopped, it had heard and felt the hunger. Ignoring its own pain, the beast pulled its arm, which had gone limp for all the muscle that had been cut, from the girl, the other releasing the obliterated head to reach for an arm, but, before stopping to grasp the knife, and then the arm in the same hand. It dragged the poor corpse onto the trail, and then to the Ruby Fruit Tree.

It was a large tree, although not towering tall; it spread out, its fruit hanging from the bottom branches, shimmering in the rain. The Minotaur used the girl's own weapon to cut out her heart, and buried it, about three feet down and near a gigantic root. Almost as soon as it had filled the narrow pit back in, the spot glowed for a moment.

Another five hundred Ruby Fruit would come from that, the lovely, forever fresh fruits, all of which born from the heart of a bearer of a red hood.

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Feeding something for food.

Isn't there something drastically wrong

with that?

------------------------------


	2. Chapter One: Of Time and Regret

**Chapter 1: Of Time and Regret**

_To Miss Teriph Lia Randol;_

_My name is Taro Rallo, I was born in and live in Kulra village. I heard from my brother, who lives in Mishral City, that you are capable of magical feats._

_I have little doubt that you know of Kulra, and our Murandi festival, with our famous Ruby Fruit, but there is something that nobody knows but us. A horrible secret. Every eleven years and one hundred and twenty six days, a girl from this village is given a strikingly red cloak. These girls are told to go fetch that year's Ruby Fruit, an honor given to these girls with no friends._

_The people of our village are sedate about what happens to those girls, I look back and find that even I was unfeeling when it was my daughter, Keena Rallo, who was chosen for this. Even afterwards it seemed like something negligible, as if I had chopped down a great oak for firewood, not caring how long that tree had survived, just wanting to keep warm myself. _

_Until a week after my daughter had been sent into the forest. That was when my wife, Marla, couldn't take what I had done, couldn't take what she had done. When she drowned herself in a pail of water._

_People of the village talked of murder, for who would kill themselves in a bucket, most claiming she would have wanted to go down with more flair. It didn't matter, it awakened me. Even when we had found my child's body, the day after she had been sent out to her death, when the men went into the forest to collect the Ruby Fruit, for the beast could still be lurking about, and to find Keena, I had felt little, or nothing._

_The storm from the night before had washed away the blood and gore, but at the foot of the tree her body lay, in her once lovely blue dress, she'd been killed, but no human could do such damage. _

_It has been eleven years since my daughter's death, and I wish to keep such horrors from happening to another lonely child. _

_The date of the festival has changed as it does every eleven years, and it will occur in six weeks. As I have written above, I have heard of your magical abilities, and now I beseech you to help this town, and help the next sacrifice, everybody knows who the next outcast will be, a girl with no father, a girl named Rika Winral._

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They say that time heals all.

But what if the guilt is so great

Wounds just grow deeper

With every second?

------------------------------

Miss Teriph Randol held a corner of the letter over a blue flame, born from a candle. She watched the flame enjoy the succulent taste of paper as its scorching foot falls destroyed the painstakingly written characters, each word drawn beautifully, every word spelt correctly, hours of effort and no doubt several rough drafts; this Taro seemed very desperate for help.

Teriph had decided to answer her beseechment. Curiosity was the main player in her choice, what had happened to this Keena Rallo? What had this man and his wife done that was so terrible? And even more so, what did those famous Ruby Fruit taste like?

As a gypsy Teriph went where she felt like being, and where she thought she'd make the most coin. As a gypsy gifted in the ways of magic, Teriph could also do what ever she felt like doing, and help those who she thought she would be rewarded for helping.

As the flame finished licking its jaws, it slowly changed back to the uniform color of a candle blaze, with only a small tick of blue in the center. Now all who had read the plea besides her and the writer would forget every word. If a village could keep a secret that long, then there must be some great punishment for telling the world.

Teriph heaved herself up from her crystal ball laden table, something that was actually a hassle with a chair as plush as hers, a necessity if one planned to sit about and tell people about what might happen if they play their cards right.

Future was uncertain, and one could only see down the path somebody was walking down at that moment, and the bridges that where smoldering behind them in the maze of the person's own making.

Teriph fell, ass first, into her well-cushioned chair, pushing her heavy crystal sphere to the other side of the sturdy table it sat on. Teriph traced her finger on the unfurled map from the dot labeled 'Rirap City' through the 'Rirap Fields,' which stretched south down the river, which wound down into the forest lands, where a smaller dot was labeled 'Kulra Village' The gypsy thoughtfully patted her lips with a finger, deciding the trip would take little more than two weeks. Four weeks was plenty of time to investigate and perhaps save the fatherless girl named Rika Winral.

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Stories and Lies.

Lies and Stories.

What's the difference?

------------------------------

The Murandi Festival. It was one of those things that everybody knew about, but since it was so far into the forest lands, only the rich that were bored ever went to it. If that. Nobody is certain why it happens, and why every eleven years the date moved one-hundred-twenty-six days later into the year.

Knowledge of the Festival's early days is scarce; all that is truly certain is that it was, in part, to celebrate the one-of-a-kind fruit which the one-of-a-kind tree bears. The fruit never rots, on or off the vine, and bugs and birds have a great aversion to the shimmering-red edible jewels. Another specialty is that no matter the season, the tree has no flowers, just the scores and scores of bright fruit hanging from the bottom branches, just in reach.

The festival also has much to do with the village's birth. The fields of Kulra cut through what was once forest, but they extend to the north, east, and west, never to the south, in the direction of the Ruby Fruit Tree. The village was birthed by chance, good luck and a fair share of bad luck as well.

Although nobody is sure of their origin, or why they were going so deep into the forest lands, a group of fifty people had entered the great forests. Many died, people, animals, their graves long lost, their names long forgotten. About thirty starving and travel-worn people, all past any hope of surviving, and yet they did not turn around; they all knew they wouldn't make it if they tried. So they continued forward, continued southward.

Then, they found food, in the form of those wonderful fruit. The people rejoiced, they had the vigor to cut down trees, build homes, and create fields. They had no worries of food. But then all of the fruit had been picked.

They had other sources of food now. The villagers had little need to sustain off the fruit, but it had made its way into so many dishes, and so many tongues, the people wouldn't just forget it. So they waited, through the winter, where the year previous they had so much fruit, when spring came people trekked daily to the tree, to be the first to spot the first blossom. But it did not come. Summer, Autumn, and another Winter. Nothing.

When most people had given up, when nobody had gone to look for their wonderful fruit for an entire year, a girl was sent out by one of her parents to go and see if there was any fruit on the massive tree, three days previous it had been the girl's birthday, and she had gotten a wonderful red cloak. She had worn it through the forest, heading for the tree.

She didn't make it back. At first people blamed wolves, although they had never been seen or heard in the area before. Almost immediately after the forest creatures began to surge into life around the village, they believed the girl to have been taken by the gods, and it was her spirit who aroused the wildlife. And then less than a week later hundreds of the fruit weighed the boughs of the tree. And the festival began. It was also when the tradition of only plucking a basket's worth of fruit every year for the village to share came about.

The reasons for other traditions of the Murandi Festival, or even how it got such an odd name have long been lost, or perhaps have been long held captive as secrets within the village, as Taro's letter had seemed to hint to more than just a monster in the woods that the people feed outcasts.

Teriph closed the hefty book she had been reading from, notes from her parents and grandparents drawn neatly in the margins and the spaces between lines. The gypsy future-seer slid the book onto the table before her, next to the rolled up map, which had quickly re-coiled itself when Teriph had let it free. Golden letters snaked their way across the book's front. 'Rafiea'

She heaved herself from her chair using the padded arms rather than the table. Bangles jingled on her forearms, necklaces clinked against one another, her long, dark hair swished back and forth as she headed towards the entrance of her tent, she couldn't wait to tell the rest of her band they were going to take a two-week trip to the middle of nowhere because their main source of income felt like it.

------------------------------

Traveling forward,

Traveling backward,

Does it matter which?

As long as you get

Where you want to go?

------------------------------

"Wow, Teriph, I didn't even know that the village even had that much coin!" Rika was being amazed by the stream of coins falling into a large chest from the bag Teriph kept at her side except when she emptied it and handed out the band their shares.

"Aye, people'll do a lot to know what's coming ahead of 'um. And with such cheap prices as mine, people'll come back, again and again. Good thing I have this bag enchanted, huh?" Teriph winked at her new-found friend as the falling, mostly copper, coins slowed to a trickle. As the last coin dropped into the trunk, Teriph waved at it, the top, which had the word 'Booty' fancifully inscribed across it, slammed shut, followed by an internal click and then four other external locks snapping into place.

"And this week's business is done." Teriph secured the empty bag to her side. Within a week Teriph had met and became close with Rika Winral, at first the Gypsy had thought Taro had spoken of a different girl, this one had a father, this girl was most definitely capable with a bow and axe, and obviously not a young woman to be content with spending her days cooking, cleaning, and making clothes, but she didn't seem to fit the description of 'outcast sacrifice' that Teriph had in mind.

They gypsy had been subtlety looking for a second Rika, until she found that the fifteen-year-old standing before her in fact had only a stepfather. Over the past week Rika hung around the gypsy band with her free time, but none of the gypsies minded, for occasionally she'd bring a large foul to the band, having been target practice her mother had rejected, which had made her some quick friends.

"If you stay around much longer, we'll have no coin to buy things from the annual run up to Mishral." Although the way Rika spoke was accusing, she was not. The girl watched her friend sit in her plush chair, so Rika, in turn, took the plain, stiff, wooden one opposite.

"Mm, perhaps, but we all wanna be 'round when that Festival of yours comes. If I 'appen to drain all of the coin from Kulra, we'll just have to 'donate' some coins to your village for letting us, ever so kindly, bring some of that fruit away with us." Teriph looked slyly over her crystal ball at the girl who was six years her junior. They both knew that the other was just messing around.

"I don't think we'll get that desperate, if we do we could just sell our fruit to the city for much more than what you'd hand back," Rika placed her elbow on the table, all the better to hold her head up.

"Aw, you're calling us cheap." Teriph gave Rika a pitiful look, and her lower lip seemed to grow, slightly.

"Of course," Rika spoke nonchalantly, like Teriph was being extra over-reactive, which she was.

"Meh, caught in the act. I'll give ya a free look into your future if you promise not to tell," Teriph lost the 'Pity me' face, which wouldn't have ran smoothly with the coy and taunting words she tried to tempt Rika with.

"Naw, I'm good with just waiting for it to come." Rika leaned back off of the table and into her chair's stiff back and stretched.

"Well, too bad, I feel like seein' inta your future anyhow. I see … that if you don't leave soon, Roan'll be coming to get ya, and he won't be so happy about having to cross the village, even on such a warm, summer's night," Teriph had dramatically put her fingertips to her temples, a perfect example of fake concentration.

"Well, I guess I can accept that one," Rika scooted her chair backwards on the dirt that served as the tent's floor. "See you tomorrow, Teriph."

"Alright, hon," Teriph watched Rika leave into the day's dusk. Something that really unnerved her about the inhabitants of Kulra was how perfectly they spoke, pronouncing all they're 'ings' and keeping all of their words separate. She felt inferior just talking to one of the village-folk.

Now Teriph would wait, the entire week that the gypsy band had been in the village, Taro had not come once, and the fortune teller had waited, but eventually grew annoyed with the man who would ask for her help, and once it arrived, hide from it. So, she had gone to his home the previous night, and told him to come to her tent after sundown the next day. Today.

She would have spoken with him in his house, but Teriph didn't trust other's homes' walls with secrets. Although the thick canvas fabric of her tent didn't seem amazingly eavesdropper-proof, magic could do many things.

The gypsy leaned into the cushions of her chair and closed her eyes, musing to herself.

Rika really had no friends other than those she had made in the band, odd considering she was, although she could be considered sarcastic at times, even if the sarcasm was usually brought on by Teriph, Rika was kind and friendly. Perhaps having to play the man of the family until Shara, her mother, had been married to Roan, kept her from making friends with other girls. And now, at the age of fifteen, the girls had their groups sorted out, and there was little chance of getting into one.

From what Teriph knew, Rika also had a sister, Mina; the gypsy had seen the girl around town before, cheery and cute. The six-year-old had been born only a few months after Shara and Roan's marriage, which had caused a big stink in Kulra Village, considering she must have been conceived before the marriage, but that was a squabble long forgotten. The little red-head had taken after her father, who was aptly named for his light-red hair and her eyes were only a slightly lighter blue than his.

So, Rika was to be killed? Teriph wasn't about to allow that to happen. She opened her eyes and looked towards the tent flap, which rustled softly in the warm breeze. Still nobody was coming.

Teriph took it upon herself to light more candles than just the pair burning on her table, and once all of the candles glowed with the only fake life to have ever been found, the gypsy pulled a trunk off of a particularly tall stack of the locked containers, the front of this one had the name 'Eramel' emblazoned in silver letters across the front. Eramel, well she was best story teller Teriph, and anybody who had listened to her tales, had ever known. It was another three trunks, and another three names; Kale, Rabi, and Kitelle, before Teriph paused over the second-to-the-bottom trunk in the stack which had the words;

'Magical junk that can kill you if you so much as open this box.

–Marial'

written in a much smaller and easier to read print than the other trunks across the flat top. Although it seemed like something Teriph would have written, it had come from her grandmother.

"Heh, I'm pretty sure that this is the box of doom I put 'em in…" Teriph spoke softly to herself, thinking of the seven other boxes with similar warnings written across the tops by Teriph, her mother, Lorelei, or her grandmother, Marial, like the one before her, that were jumbled in with the other trunks full of her band's belongings. All of the silver or gold writing on the trunks were written with magic, so that the words glowed in the dark, getting rid of any reasons to be 'accidentally' snooping in another's belongings.

Teriph put her hands on the two hefty locks keeping the chest secure, and closed her eyes for a moment before unhooking the unlocked mechanisms from their guard posts. Placing the locks atop Kitelle's trunk, which was standing proudly on the other three chests Teriph had moved. She took an enormous step back and used her magic to slowly lift open the lid, the warning was glittering there for a reason.

To the magical gypsy's relief, all that emanated from the open trunk was a soft golden glow. No foxfire, no demons that where a little more than angry for being stuffed in a trunk, no portal to the netherworld. As the possibilities of actually deadly things that could spring forth crossed her mind, Teriph decided that it would be most wise to begin to label what doom and destruction she actually had in her trunks.

There was only four. Teriph could probably make one more before she would give them to Rika. That was only five total, hopefully this and some good information would be enough to save the girl.

Teriph re-locked the box, bothering to cover it with only two other trunks, not particularly sure how she had gotten the topmost trunk down, had she used magic without thinking of it?

The gypsy looked to the tent flap again. Still, nobody was coming. Teriph gave an exasperated sigh; at least she'd be able to pilfer one of Tagg's good arrows before paying Mr. Rallo a visit.

Teriph exited her tent, which had a small sign hammered into the ground next to the entrance.

"Futures and Fortunes"

Although to Teriph there wasn't much of a difference between the two, the words sounded and looked magical and mystical next to each other.

The Gypsy Band's leader by blood and ability slid from her tent, through the dancing shadows of the trio of fires that were in use by her band, and into Tagg and Kial's tent, Tagg was an excellent marksman, easily able to hit a bull in the eye, let alone a bright red dot on a colorfully painted circle of wood. He often took three onlookers from the group and had them try to hit the rings on the wood, letting them use a shoddy bow before showing them all up with the same ark and string. Kial just kept most of the band's weapons, trick and true alike, in perfect condition.

The inside of the tent was full of wooden boxes, sheaths, long leather bags of spears, more than a few bows, even more axes, and, Teriph's favorite, a set of five halberds. Teriph passed the halberds, giving them a motherly glance through the shadows, thinking of times way back when she had first tried to carry one while she was so little. She could barely drag it. Teriph stopped in the center of the tent, were all of the nice weapons were kept. Not within easy reach of bandits in the front, but not so much of a waste of time to get at in the back for when the troupe needed them, the middle was always a good place for anything.

Teriph tried to lift several of the wooden boxes, finding most to be too heavy to be filled with quivers of arrows, and those that weren't too weighty were far to light, probably extras for holding the band's ever-expanding private armory. Teriph finally found a box which suited her weight requirements and placed it, along with her knees and skirts, on the ground.

After shimmying the box's lid off, Teriph was pleased at the faint shapes of arrows laying within the box in the darkness, she carefully lifted an arrow out of it's quiver by pinching it below the head. She held the arrow up to the little light which made it through the canvas, pleased with the shape of the arrow head.

Teriph placed the arrow, very gently, onto the ground, before hurriedly dropping the box's lid back on and placing the hollow cube at where she thought she had gotten it from.

She squatted down and felt about for her freshly picked arrow, grasping it, she slipped back into her tent, unnoticed.

The troupe had their tents mostly as storage and protection from the elements, all of them choosing sleeping outside next to a fire before sleeping in a lonely tent. Teriph was the only who slept in their's, as she had a soft chair and the ability to keep the tent forever warm. The fortune teller was close with the members of her band, but only while they traveled, enjoying her solitude while they were camped out.

Back in her candle lit tent, Teriph held her new arrow up. It was made of a lovely and rock-hard wood, fletched with feathers from an eagle, and with a point strong and sharper than some of the daggers in the tent she had just snuck away from. Normally Teriph would have just asked Tagg for an arrow, but, having not told her band of why they were truly in Kulra, Teriph didn't want to pique her friend's inquisitive natures about why she felt she needed one of these wonderful arrows.

Teriph fell back into her chair, and felt under the lip of her table, finding what she was searching for, a long, but narrow, drawer slid out from the table's lip. The seer of futures placed the arrow into the hidden compartment, sliding it back into its almost invisible hidey-hole. She'd begin tomorrow, after she was done dealing with Taro.

Teriph wasn't looking forward to getting lost in the little town in the dark once more; at least now she had an idea about where the man's house was, unlike the day before when she had first set out.

The gypsy left her chair, bent over to brush off the dirt that clung to her skirts from her sneaking about, and then paused, still half bent over. Smiling she sat back into her plush, upholstered, mystic's throne.

------------------------------

When secrets are told,

Those secrets hold

For they stay secret

To those who they are not

Softly whispered to.

------------------------------

Such horrors that Taro Rallo was capable in relating in gruesome detail, proof that those frightening ghosts of memories haunted the man every day and every night. The gypsy walked him to his home. She had learned much more than simply words in a plea for assistance could teach.

In the way that he told her of how, after every outcast was sent away, all of the naieve villagers who didn't know, at the age of ten or older, where told of what had happened, people of that age able to appreciate the importance and weight of the issue, also those who would be adults by the next sacrifice's time. And also of how these children were able to take the tale in stride, as if it was something that they shouldn't be worried about.

Teriph assured the man that she would help Rika the best she could, and left him at his door, heading back through the village, the sun-warmed air starting to take on the sting of night.

After hearing the whole story, Teriph understood why the man was so uneager to relate it. After hearing the whole story, Teriph wasn't sure about her opinion of the village or any of the people within. Not anymore.

In her eyes Kulra was a village with good people, only a few tainted with such happenings. Now Kulra was a village full of people ready to send out one of their own to die, just because they were different, didn't fit in. Somebody that would be missed by the fewest people possible. How horrid. But there was more. These people had never sent a boy before, apparently they were 'useful,' as if cooking food and making clothes wasn't 'useful.' Apparently the fields were more important than the people.

Taro had also told her of how Clarke had gotten Marla to comply with the village's wishes. The village would turn against people who had sent their outcasts of children away, or hidden them, taking their fields, harassing them. They could do such so far from the lawmakers.

------------------------------

Morning comes

Then morning goes.

Before you know

The morning comes,

Only to go again.

------------------------------

Another week had left with little notice to the Gypsy Band, all waiting for the festival in two weeks. The time that was left was edging closer to the cliff's edge. Closer to the spinning freefall to come. Teriph and Rika had gotten closer. Extra incentive to keep the girl alive. This wasn't some request from some man filled to the top with regret; it was a friend who was going to be killed.

"Hmmmm…" Teriph touched her fingertips to the crystal sphere sitting atop its pedestal before her. Colored lights leaked from the points of contact, the ribbons of light spinning into the crystals center as if a whirlpool was drawing them in. The lights compiled into a white mass in the center, and the fortune teller took her hands from the orb, to dramatically wave her hands about it's surface, the internal mass held its shape until the last bit of ribboned light succumbed to it, and then only for half a second after. It collapsed before ejecting the colors it had greedily swallowed creating a pair of spinning great arcs formed from a rippled rainbow. The spinning circles took to dissipating, leaving a lively colored mist, still spinning, in their wake.

Rika watched, interested. Mina watched, enchanted. While the ball put on the show Teriph followed the threads of the little girl's fate within her mind; they were braided with her half-sister, and woven into the fabrics of several others. Then they so abruptly ended. And not far into the future either. Was little girl's fate truly be death if things continued as they where? Had the sorceress accidentally gone from Mina's threads to Rika's? She decided she would speak a half truth to the girl. She hadn't gotten far enough to 'see' anything. She'd need to effect that future. She needed to tell Rika what she needed to know, soon.

"I see… I see such 'appiness, your smile 'til yur death," Teriph slowly opened her eyes, and looked at the entranced girl, "Now, I do believe Eramel is tellin' a story shortly. She's wonderful, I think you should go listin." Teriph gave the little girl a wink, which was received with enthusiastic nodding, which was quickly turned towards Rika for permission.

"Mina, Eramel's by the fire, she's got blonde hair and light-brown eyes, come back here when she's done, m'kay?" Rika took the chair she had been standing beside as her sister left the tent, after a loud 'Okay!'

"Was all that really necessary?" Rika inquisitively cocked her head for emphasis, having had several small predictions with no such fantastic shows.

"'A course not, but it sure makes it look like I'm doing some'im amazin'. Just throw some pretty magic in there and let it do what it likes, an' I get different stuff every go," Teriph affectionately patted the crystal ball, the colored mist within having mostly dissipated.

"Ah, of course, a show for the paying customers. … Mm, you know, you've seemed really tired lately."

"Oh really?" Teriph's mind wandered to the glowing objects in the trunk and the arrow in her table, "Well… it's all yur fault."

"Thanks, that's a real confidence builder," Rika looked towards the tent's entrance, hearing nearby footsteps and wondering if she would have to give up her seat for one of the other villagers. "So, what did I do to make you so tired?"

"Oh nothing, darlin'," It had only been a week, and Teriph was feeling it. She had decided to break the news to Rika when she could give her a set of five, "I just need a scapegoat incase anybody else notices."

"Why don't you go lissin to Eramel wit your sister? 'er stories can get a little fearsome. I'm sure she'll want somebody to cling to," Teriph watched Rika rise from her seat.

"Guess you don't want me hurting business, listening in to their futures."

"Aye, that leader 'a yours, Clarke, seems to be heading 'ere. An' I see ... he'll pay well if somebody isn't hoverin' about." Both of the girls threw annoyed glances at each other, but parted with a smile and a chuckle.

------------------------------

Friends come from Friendship.

An invisible bond

that can tie and blind you

or free and protect you.

------------------------------


	3. Chapter Two: Of Guiding Arrows

**Chapter Two: Of Guiding Arrows**

Five days. According to Taro, Rika only had three more. The outcasts would be told to pick the fruit two days before the festival, instead of just the day before, as was normal. That way, 'Although this is a sad time, we still have a chance to pick the fruit and celebrate! It's what she would have wanted! Not for us to cry for her when she gave her life for our fruit!' as Clarke put it so eloquently every time.

Teriph closed the chest labeled with the silver warning from her grandmother, bothering only to put one of the locks on. Now there was a set of five.

Teriph leaned back into her chair, and took a deep breath, expelling it, and hopefully some fatigue. The magical gypsy had finished. She had a set of five to give to Rika. But the Gypsy felt like she'd run seven miles, swum across the Great Inland Sea of Kilfa, and then run another twelve.

Rika would come in about three hours, after lunch as she always did. A chance to sleep, a chance to recuperate, a chance to will Rika's survival into existence, even if it was only through dreams. The gypsy's heavy, bag laden eyelids slid smoothly into sleeping position. Her tent's opening had been pinned shut with a single, polished redwood spike, positioned perfectly down the rift in the canvas to keep the entire flap slot closed, as it had been the day before. Rika was worried about the gypsy, but the gypsy was far more worried about Rika.

------------------------------

A chance to run

A chance to fly

A chance to swim

Away from life

And it's crimes.

------------------------------

Rika had been wandering through the forest's fringes atop her mare, a lovely painted horse, some kind of work beast, although neither the girl nor her family knew what kind, the white and black horse's prowess in the fields made her well worth all the food she consumed.

Rika listened to the sounds of a forest in summer, all kinds of birds chirped to one another, be it warning or love song Rika didn't care, for they all sounded so lovely. Light shot through the canopy rippled with the shapes of leaves in some places and ridged bars of light in others. Rika loved the smell of the forest at all times, but mingling with summer warmth her eyelid's felt too lazy to open fully and Rika was also indulging in the light hearted feeling of the forest, it was like an infectious disease, but it wasn't nearly as horrible, it telling her to enjoy herself, so she didn't feel like putting her eyes in line.

Shara had asked her daughter to go get some meat for dinner. Meat, a food that the duty of obtaining was often neglected while the men were sowing their seeds and tending to fields full of lush green food, so Shara was apt to put her first daughter's skills with a bow to use.

Rika only had her mare, Ralia, because her mother wanted big game and also that the fields had been plowed the week before. Rika had barely begun to dismount from Ralia, having only slipped her feet from the stirrups and held her bow in her hand, so she wouldn't smash it on impact with the ground after she dropped, when she saw a moving streak of brown. A deer. As she steadied herself back atop her mare and just after she had her bowstring bent like an acrobat's back, having whipped an arrow from a small quiver she kept on her thigh, it held only three or four arrows comfortably, but was useful, she realized that the deer was a young buck, all the better, it meant handles on the trip back to her home. As soon as she had fired the girl had jumped off of Ralia, having already unhooked her feet from the leather stirrups on either side of the mare when she had prepared for the dismount and the long fall down before. Barely before she had hit the ground, so thankful she had strung her bow before she had set out, the buck crashed off its course, its own speed and the arrow's force pushing it off its path and into the underbrush.

Rika trusted Ralia wouldn't wander off while she was still in scolding range.

Having caused a very uncomfortable feeling in her knees, and having unnerved herself from leaping off a beast as tall as Ralia, Rika rather speed-shuffled, or as some might see it, slowly jogged, towards where the buck had fallen rather than having run, dizzy from the sudden height change.

The would-be sacrifice was slightly disappointed by her aim, although she was far from complaining that she'd hit the beast through the head, but, alas she'd aimed for its much larger, and easier to hit, neck.

Rika grabbed the runty antlers that protruded from the creature's skull, the arrow going through the braincase and much too hard to dislodge at the present time. Some of the men could carry these beasts back to town, Rika could not, and would not, Roan believed it was because she was a girl and therefore weak, but Rika had confided with her mother the real reason she liked to have Ralia along to bring back big game. The beasts smelled awful, and they would often get blood on her clothes. Saddles where much less trouble to clean, or at least the way Rika did it, lazily wiping it down with a soaked rag.

_Thock!_ The young stag had been alert before, but the arrow that had slammed into the thick trunk of a forest giant only a few feet from the animal had sent it off faster than most would have believed that a deer could run.

Cawel cussed openly and loudly as he raged towards the tree his arrow was caught in. He'd been silently stalking the animal for awhile until he had a good shot at it, and then his stupid arrow goes and misses! Half way to his missile's resting spot he heard something crashing through the underbrush only to abruptly stop. Cawel ran at his arrow, grabbing hold of the shaft and leaning back to dislodge it quickly, only to come out cussing, once more, at his headless arrow before discarding the fletched shaft to the ground and hurrying towards the sound, the stag had been in a hurry, perhaps it had fallen and broken a leg!

The sight the flustered hunter came upon was not what he expected to see, nor what he wanted to see.

"YOU!" Cawel's face was so distorted from his anger he looked akin to a demon. It was that stupid girl again who had stupidly stolen HIS kill. She was always showing off her skills with a bow or how she could ride that monster horse with such ease. She was so… so… Awful! He hated this girl, and although he wouldn't admit it, he was intimidated by Rika, four years younger than he.

Rika looked up from her task of dragging the buck to her Ralia at the sound of the upset nineteen-year-old's outburst. Rika's eyes narrowed at Cawel. She'd been in such a good mood seconds before. This loser which stood before her with his features screwed up with undiluted anger, it was always so hard to deal with. He was easy to anger, and he'd blame anything that happened on anything or anybody else, especially if it was himself at fault.

Once when he had kicked over a bucket of water by accident he was so mad at the wooden bucket he lit it on fire later that day. You could hear his parents yell at him from three houses over. Somehow he ended up blaming Rika for that one. Something he was apt to do when he couldn't find anybody or anything to blame but himself.

Rika dropped the buck and unfolded her back and adjusted her bow which was hanging over her shoulder.

"Cawel. What do you want?" Rika's words were spoken darkly, suggesting for him to leave rather than actually answer. Well, the ass was quite stupid.

"That's my deer! You stole it! Give it back!" Cawel pointed to the unfortunate animal, but glared at Rika.

"Yeah, right, Cow. This is my _buck_ which you better not try to steal. And the only way I'm giving you my little buck here is if you pay me, I know that _I_ can go get another one. Don't know about you though."

Rika's first insult made "Cow"el flush even deeper red, the only reason his color didn't change as she continued the battery was that if he got any redder he had a chance of exploding.

Cawel's mind raced with incoherent insults, which he would hiss towards Rika every couple of seconds, the depths of his dislike for her was turning into a bottomless pit of hate. She'd always do stuff like this, just like this. He wasn't thinking clearly, but one thought got through. That this girl was going to reap what she'd sown.

Rika looked at him, a look that made him feel like dirt. That's what she thought of everybody else, and she wondered why she had no friends?

Cawel's sudden actions from insults to reaching to his shoulder, his quiver took Rika by surprise, but she had him pinned, her bow arced, an arrow ready to be a message sent at his right thigh.

"What exactly did you think you were about to do? Huh Cawel?" Rika wasn't afraid to let her arrow loose on the elder teen, and hopefully, if Cawel had even half the intelligence that Rika thought he had, which was less than most termites, mind you, he would see it in her eyes.

The teen with anger management problems was awestruck. How was she so fast? He had only wanted to scare her, maybe hit a foot, with any luck, he'd barely lifted his hand from rest, his bow only had moved a fraction of a noticeable amount when she had jerked her shoulder, her bow popping off of her body and into her hand, an arrow was suddenly from her leg to her bow, and an angry point of an arrowhead was pointed at him.

His gaze slowly moved from the sharpened black rock pointed at him to Rika's eye. She wasn't aiming to scare, she was aiming to hurt. It wasn't fair. Why was this little girl so much better than him!? His eyes stung near the his nose's bridge. He wasn't about to cry in front of her! Abruptly he broke her gaze, made a grunting kind of snort and run away towards town.

What a pain in the ass. Had he ran away crying? Oh well, he wasn't worth the worry. Rika relaxed her bow and pocketed her arrow into its mini-quiver home, re-shouldered her bow and resumed dragging the deer-corpse, Ralia too busy grazing to come to Rika's whistles.

"Hey, beastie, kneel," Rika elbowed the mare behind her front leg with enough pressure to get her to look up, "Come on, kneel or I'll kick you in the knee." Whether or not the horse understood the threat she got onto her knees, the only way Rika would be able to fling the dead animal atop her. "Now up my beastie."

Ralia gave a snort and heaved her large mass upwards until she was standing. Evidently she wasn't all that happy about having one of her animalistic kin, dead, upon her back, but she obeyed Rika when she tugged on her reins to lead her home. Although home had oats and other sweets if she was lucky, so there was an alternative motive for her obedience.

------------------------------

Lies will hurt.

No matter how light

Or dark hearted.

------------------------------

Rika pulled the meat off of Ralia and dropped it on the ground, pulling the work horse into her stall to remove her saddle. Rika would brush Ralia later, sniggering to herself about the shadow of a saddle still sitting on her beast's back.

"Mother, I hope you like this buck, it ruined my arr-" Rika was half dragging the deer corpse around the side of her home, on the fringe of the village's southern edge, holding onto the dead beast's hide to keep most of it off the ground, when she came upon Shara standing in the doorway. She did not look happy.

"I can't believe you, Rika! Why would you do such a thing?" Shara started out strong, but her voice diminished with her pride in her daughter.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Rika was startled, and was looking around for the cause of her mother's distress.

"You're going over to the Marul's house and apologizing!" Shara pointed an accusing finger at the deer, which Rika had just dropped onto the dusty ground.

"What am I apologizing for?" Rika's fist was shaking. What lies had that stupid Cow spread in such a short time?

"Rika, you know what."

"Humor me, mother, I want to know what Cawel said I did."

"Rika… You stole that deer from that boy, you know you did. He said you were going to kill him for it! Although, I would hope that such isn't true."

"Well, you should know that this deer was never his, too! _I_ shot it then he comes up and tells me I stole it!" Rika's voice broke, how could her own mother believe anything Cawel said? She knew he hated her.

"How do you know it wasn't his arrow that brought it down!"

"Because he doesn't fletch his arrows with crow feathers!" Rika dramatically gestured to the arrow protruding from the beast's head, its end decorated with black feathers.

"… Rika…"

"I-I can't believe you don't trust me!" Rika had pointed her bow at Cawel, but that beast was her kill. What was that ass' problem with Rika? What had she ever done to him? It wasn't fair. The fifteen year old took off, not in teen rebellion but because of the absence of trust her mother had in her. Or perhaps it was the amount of trust that the mother had in Cawel.  
"Rika! RIKA!" Shara cried after her daughter.

The village only had roughly two or three hundred people living within, so it took awhile before the girl was out of sight of her home, but she had stopped running and was walking. Sulking.

She was astonished at how her mother had believed her daughter to be the one in the wrong, especially with the story coming from Cawel. Cawel. Everything was Cawel's fault; the only wrong she had ever done to the boy was walk around a corner into him, accidentally pushing him into a puddle from the previous night's rain. That was ten years ago, when Rika was only five.

Rika looked up, after drying one of her eyes with a finger, and froze. There was Cawel, no doubt spreading his lies to a girl from the village and one of his friends. …Who would want to be friends with him?

Cawel's buddy saw Rika before he did, nudging him with his elbow. The Cow looked up, and his eyes got big. The look on his face saying '_Oh shit' _Rika started towards him, wanting to punch him, or rip his eyes out, or something! Half way there she stopped. It wouldn't be worth the ensuing chaos.

"You stupid lying coward! You-you're such an…" Rika trailed off, everything before her distorting from tears ready to jump from her eyes. She made some sort of pitiful sound before running off stage left through the space between a pair of buildings.

Cawel was stunned. Rika was crying. He'd never imagined she could. She was the kind of person he would have imagined to have come up and punched him, or ripped his eyes out, or something. Not call him a lying coward and run away sobbing into the air.

Cawel looked from the corner of the building that blocked the sight of the fleeing Rika, to his friend and his girl. He recoiled, they both looked at him like he had just slapped the both of them.

"'Lying coward'? People don't put on an act that well, especially her, Cawel, what'd you do?" Ranni asked. He didn't dislike the tomboy, but he didn't really know her that well. But, from what he did know, she was a horrid actress, singer, and dancer, and from what he knew, hadn't cried since she was a baby.

"Woah! How did you get RIKA to cry? _I _wish I could do that!" the girl shrieked in laughter.  
Ranni looked aghast by his girl's reaction. "That's a horrible thing to wish for, Yula," the teen turned and began to walk away, Yula's expression having immidiatly fallen from his words.  
"Ranni, you're not angry at me are you?" she asked desperately as she followed him like crows did death.

The two left Cawel looking ashamed. Why had he done that? Because she'd deserved it! The answer rang back into his head. But this time through, he wasn't so sure.

------------------------------

The list of things you should never do is very long.

For all you guys out there,

making a girl cry is very

near the top.

------------------------------

"Ooooh, Rika, you're here early…" Teriph stretched casually, but paused for a moment before relaxing. But her form stiffened again when she saw Rika.

"Hon, what's the matter? Who made you cry? Wam'me to Curse 'em for you?" the gypsy craned her neck like a corkscrew, trying to get a look at Rika's face which she had hidden behind a veil of dark brown hair which had fallen from it's place while Rika looked at the ground.

"It's not fair! Nobody trusts me, nobody even likes me…" Rika thought she sounded horribly immature, but in her mind the current events had warped to be worse than they truly were, and this had taken down her defenses that were built through age and tribulations.

"Ohh, don't say that, we don't hate you, especially the rest of the band. Food equals friend," Teriph tried to lighten the mood, but it just seemed to make Rika feel worse, apparently she wasn't in the mood to hear about food. Teriph sighed inwardly, now she would feel really bad, how was she going to tell Rika? 'Oh, well actually they do hate you; in fact they're gonna go sacrifice you to some inhuman beast, but take some magical stuff an' let's 'ope you survive!' That'd didn't sound all that comforting, she'd have to calm the girl down first.

"Here, hon, take a seat and tell me what happened."

Rika took the offered seat, and in a small, soft, and quite dismal voice told Teriph what had happened in the last while or so.

Teriph looked thoughtfully at the grain of the wood that made up her table, thinking of hexing Shara and giving Cawel a nasty curse. What kind of mother takes somebody else's side before even hearing her daughter's story, and what kind of pig goes around lying like that for no reason other than to be mean?

"Well, hon, you're free to stay here until you want to go make up with your mother."

"… I don't want to make up with her. I want her to tell me she's sorry."

"Yes, but being a woman, I know that you're gonna want to sulk before anybody says sorry to anybody."

"Heh."

A silence hovered in the air, broken by a monstrous sigh from Teriph.

"Rika, there's something you should know. It involves your survival." Rika looked up at Teriph, who wouldn't meet her eyes. Her attention taken from her hurt feelings, why was she suddenly so serious? And what was she talking about?

"In three days you'll be given a red cloak. Then you'll be sent into the forest to collect those Ruby Fruit." Rika perked up, she was going to pick the Ruby Fruit? But, why? And how did that concern her survival?

"There's a monster in that forest, and with that red cloak it'll hunt you down, and kill you. No, don't say anything 'til I'm done. Taro, you know him, right? His daughter was the last outcast. He asked me here to help you, Rika Winral. I was intrigued, so I came. I have five enchanted arrows here. Any beast they hit, even if it's just a graze, will die almost instantly. It's what I have been working on; it's why I've been so tired. I finished today and ah want you to 'ave them. I also want you to do sumthin' else. That bow you leaned against that stack of trunks, I want you to go onto the path to the south of the village and put it out of sight, somewhere you'll be able to get to it and not be seen from the village. I want you to do the same with tha arrows." Teriph took a large breath, she hadn't let Rika speak, not pausing once. But now she did, to slide her secret drawer out from the table's lip and after a few moments of fumbling with the gifts pulled out five, slightly glowing arrows, each one a work of art, each one covered in emblems which glowed brighter than the surrounding wood iron or feather. The Rika recovered from Teriph's words, which had stunned her quite nicely, and spoke.

"So, is that what happened to that girl? I remember, when I was little, the whole town was sad, they told us wolves ripped apart the girl who had gone to collect the fruit."

"Heh, you're awfully accepting," Teriph placed the arrows on the table, the ball of crystal that normally sat upon it hid under the woodwork today.

"No, not particularly. I'm hoping that if I don't deal with what you just told me, it'll go away." Rika gave Teriph a stare. Contemplating. What she said was pretty far fetched. But not impossible. The gypsy also had no reason to lie to Rika, especially give her the small mound of shimmering and glowing arrows that lay beneath the gypsy's hand, they were obviously worth a lot of money, and money was something Teriph was hard set upon giving away. But…


End file.
